


Making Magic

by sweetcarolanne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Banter, Cooking, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Humor, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 21:02:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11722497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetcarolanne/pseuds/sweetcarolanne
Summary: After losing a bet to Hermione, Percy has to use all his skills in order to make magic of a different kind happen!





	Making Magic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [makiyakinabe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/makiyakinabe/gifts).



> Dear recipient, I hope this was something along the lines of what you wanted! I had a lot of fun writing it.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters and am making no money from this story.
> 
> Many thanks to my beta who wishes to remain anonymous.

“Oh, come on – it’ll be fun, and I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself far more than you believe. Just think of it as making magic of a different kind. You promised you would if I won, and fair’s fair now, Percy!”

Hermione was smiling broadly by that time, which made Percy frown even harder in sheer irritability.

“Look, you’ve made your point and you’ve won your bet. This is silly and childish. Can’t you just be satisfied that I’ve admitted you’re right and leave it alone?” 

“Don’t be a baby.”

Hermione came over to where Percy sat on the sofa and laid a reassuring hand on her husband’s shoulder. Really, these Weasleys could be impossible sometimes, she thought. Although things had not really worked out with Ron all those years ago, she still had a lot of love for the family and was blissfully happy to have been able to establish such a firm and enduring relationship with Percy, albeit an often challenging one. And right at that very moment, Percy was being extremely challenging indeed.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. It’s simpler than many of the spells we had to learn at school, and probably far less complicated than anything either of us has had to do at work. Your mother’s brilliant at it, and so is your father now, thanks to his enthusiasm for anything and everything Muggle – and come to think of it, even Harry knows how. He can even do it without Ginny’s help, for heaven’s sake! It’s not as if I’ve dared you to swallow dragon dung or anything ridiculous like that!”

Hermione bent to kiss Percy softly, and he looked at her in amazement.

“Harry? You’re saying Harry can make a decent loaf of gingerbread? The hard way, by hand, without even using the slightest bit of magic?” His forehead visibly crinkled in disbelief.

“Of course!” Hermione said emphatically, and put her arm around Percy, giving him a gentle and encouraging squeeze. “As I said just a minute ago – I hope you were listening - your parents’ gingerbread is absolutely brilliant, and they taught Ginny how to make it, and then Ginny taught Harry! And no doubt by now, even their kids can produce something I wouldn’t turn my nose up at. So now it’s your turn to make an effort!”

Percy groaned aloud and made a face.

“Oh, all right, I’ll give it a go! But I’m not wearing your pink frilly apron while I’m doing it!”

“That’s the spirit!” Hermione grinned and rewarded Percy with another kiss. “And have it your way, then – you don’t have to wear that apron, but don’t come crying to me if you get flour all over yourself. Although now I come to think of it, you’d look very sweet indeed in pink frills – HEY!”

Hermione found herself having to abruptly duck as Percy threw a cushion at her and only very narrowly missed his target.

After the pair of them had spent several minutes laughing so hard their sides hurt, Percy was soon standing in the kitchen, ingredients littered around him on the bench, staring blankly into an empty mixing bowl.

“Oh come on, Hermione – couldn’t I just use one tiny spell to get at least some of the ingredients mixed? Or even just to crack the egg? Everything here looks like it’s going to end up spread around the entire kitchen!”

“No, absolutely not!” Hermione said firmly, looking up from where she was now seated at the adjacent dining room table, ostensibly reading the latest copy of Witch Weekly, but in actual fact keeping an eye on Percy.

With an exaggerated sigh of frustration, Percy picked up one of the eggs in the carton next to him and held it up to the light, eyeing it suspiciously as if he expected a scaly, vicious creature to smash its way out at any moment. Hermione bit back a giggle as she peered over the top of her magazine.

“You won’t find a basilisk in there, I’m sure. Just crack it on the side of the mixing bowl, and make sure you don’t get any shell mixed in with the yolk,” Hermione said, as calmly as she could manage without collapsing into laughter again. “It’s not rocket science.”

“What’s a rocket?” Percy asked as he tried to keep his hands steady, doing his best to break the eggshell as instructed. Fortunately, no pieces of the shell fell into the bowl, but the yolk itself split into an unsightly blot as it landed instead of staying in a neat little yellow circle. Percy grimaced a bit, grateful that the exacting Hermione could not see that from where she was sitting.

“I’ll explain later. Or you could always ask your father next time your parents come over for tea, he’s bound to have read all about them and will be thrilled to talk about Muggle things all day long. Now don’t you distract yourself, or you’ll make a mess everywhere,” Hermione replied with a stern tone that would have made Professor McGonagall proud. 

Trying not to sigh, Percy turned his attention back to the recipe-book beside him. He gingerly picked up an egg-beater, and Hermione kept pretending to read while making sure that her husband did not attempt to slyly reach for his wand.

As Percy fussed with the dry ingredients next, Hermione’s mind wandered back to their school days and how she had always felt a kind of bond with Percy, even though she had been better friends with Ron. Percy had always had many good qualities that she valued, including respect for those older and wiser and the desire to do the right thing, even though the mischief-making twins had made fun of him for this and thought of him as a stuffy prig.

Percy was anything but that now, Hermione thought to herself with a small smile. He had been a Gryffindor too, after all, sorted into the house of the bravest, and he had more than proved his worth.

Happily the cake mixture was soon whisked together and spooned into a baking pan, and mere moments later the house was filling with the delicious scents of spices and sweetness. Percy breathed a sigh of relief and fell back onto the sofa, red-faced and tired and thanking heaven that the ordeal was over. Hermione finally left her magazine on the table and came to sit beside him.

“See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” she asked, draping a comforting arm around her husband’s shoulders. “And I’m willing to bet you even had fun doing it!”

“I’m not making any more bets with you – I’ll only lose again,” Percy replied, trying to hide the grin that was threatening to spread across his face with a pretend pout. 

“Now, that’s enough of that,” Hermione gently chided, and leaned over to press a soft kiss on his lips. “You’ve made a brilliant effort, and soon we’ll have some tasty gingerbread to enjoy. We’ve got some celebrating to do, in case you’ve forgotten – for the very reason you ended up having to do all that Muggle baking in the first place! Remember, Percy, how you were convinced that you weren’t going to be asked to stay on as my assistant when I became Minister for Magic, but you were very wrong indeed!”

Percy could not stop himself from grinning broadly at his wife this time, and lovingly returned her kiss.

“And I’ve never been so happy to be wrong in my life,” he whispered, tenderly ruffling Hermione’s hair and making her wrinkle her nose at him. She reached into her pocket and placed something small and metallic in the palm of his hand.

“I think you’ve earned this now… remember your old Prefect badge that Fred and George charmed to read “Pinhead” instead all those years ago? Well, I’ve finally fixed it for you.”

Percy beamed as he held it up for inspection, but then gave Hermione a puzzled look. “It’s still not spelled right though – you’ve put the R after the first E instead of before!”

“No, it’s meant to be like that,” Hermione replied cheekily. “It spells “Perfect.” As in perfect assistant, perfect husband, and hopefully, perfect baker!”

As Percy blushed a little, Hermione stood up to go and have a look at how much longer the gingerbread had to bake, only stopping to briefly tease her husband good-naturedly.

“I really should have insisted that you wear my apron – I still think you would have looked an absolute darling in it. Hey, put that cushion down, now – and that’s an order from your Minister! Stop it, Percy – throwing cushions at the Minister for Magic is most inappropriate behaviour – Percy, I’m warning you, DON’T YOU DARE!”


End file.
